


The Recital

by Lynx22281



Series: Edison College [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and very light angst, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 04:12:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2177433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynx22281/pseuds/Lynx22281
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean goes to Castiel's sophomore recital.  Afterwards, Gabriel kicks Castiel out of their dorm room for the night, so Dean offers him the use of the futon in his room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Recital

Dean felt like he was leaving something behind when he walked out the door of Hancock Hall and headed towards the Fine Arts Center.  Nowadays it was rare for him to head anywhere on a Friday night without Castiel by his side.  But, tonight was his friend’s sophomore recital and Dean was going to be late if he didn’t hurry.  He glanced up and down the narrow street that wound between the dormitories before briskly crossing the road to the brick sidewalk. 

 

In one hand, he clutched a bunch of dark red and white gerbera daisies wrapped in green tissue paper.  It was the least girly bunch of flowers he could find at the nearby florist shop.  Dean had been a little nervous about buying flowers; some of the other guys who gave recitals got flowers, but usually from their girlfriends or families.  His indecision in the shop over whether or not he should even get the flowers had caused him to leave the dorm later than he had planned.

 

Luckily, Castiel wouldn’t be playing until the second half of the recital, so Dean wouldn’t miss the cellist if he was a few minutes late.  Sophomore music majors were required to give a half-hour recital in the spring semester, and two sophomores usually shared an hour long program.  The first half was to be performed by a sophomore vocal major who Dean didn’t know very well.  While he didn’t want to be rude by coming in late, Dean didn’t really care if he missed the girl’s first piece or two.  He wasn’t a fan of vocal music unless the repertoire included Led Zeppelin or AC/DC, but he was pretty sure there wouldn’t be any classic rock on tonight’s program.

 

By the time he finally reached the Fine Arts Center, people were already entering the recital hall.  Dean skirted around the edges of the crowd to head around to the green room where the performers and their accompanists waited.  As he reached the door and opened it, the hallway lights flickered a few times indicating that the audience should take their seats.

 

He poked his head in and saw Castiel sitting on top of the dressing counter, his chin resting idly against his cello’s scroll with his eyes closed.  He was listening to his iPod, oblivious to the handful of other people taking up space in the green room.  The cord of his earphones trailed down the collar of his white button down shirt, crossing together over the bright blue tie tucked into his black waistcoat.  His dark hair stuck up messily all over his head, but it was hard to tell whether the effect was intentional or not.  Most guys would kill to get their hair to look that way, but Castiel simply rolled out of bed with perfectly messy hair.  On more than one occasion, Dean had heard Ava and Sarah describe it as “sex hair”.

                                                   

Castiel had very peaceful look on his face, unlike the singer who was nervously pacing the length of the small room muttering to herself.  Dean hated to pull Castiel out of his Zen-like state and was just about to duck back into the hall when Castiel’s accompanist tapped him on the knee to get his attention.  The cello player tugged the earphones out of his ears and glanced up, looking right at Dean.  There was a little spark of relief in his blue eyes, as though maybe he had been worried that Dean wouldn’t stop by to wish him luck before he went on stage.

 

“Break a leg!” Dean said with a big smile before the singer cast an irritated look in his direction and her accompanist shooed him away from the door.

 

Castiel grinned and waved back to him.

 

Dean hurried out to the lobby just as the ushers were closing the doors to the recital hall.  He stopped to write his name on an attendance roster – music majors were required to show up – and grabbed a program.  Several other underclass music majors waved him over to their usual row when they spotted him.  He crawled over Ava and Sarah to sit next to Victor.

 

Victor leaned into his shoulder and whispered.  “Think she’ll be any better than the last one?”

 

The instrumental majors and vocal majors didn’t share many classes in common and didn’t usually socialize with each other.  There was some contention between the two groups.  The instrumentalists thought the vocalists were a bunch of puffed up divas and the vocalists thought the instrumentalists had major egos.  The recital last Sunday afternoon featured two operatic sopranos who had left them all with headaches.

 

Dean snorted out a laugh that got him shushed by the girls. 

 

The lights dimmed and the singer walked out on stage followed by her accompanist.  This particular vocalist was concentrating in musical theater, so all of her pieces were in English and some were vaguely familiar.  Dean had to admit that her set was more bearable than the opera pieces last weekend, though this singer tended to be overly expressive while singing. 

 

While most of the vocalist’s pieces were short, there were ten of them on her part of the program.  Victor slouched down in his seat and dug his phone out of his pocket to play games on the dimmed screen.  Dean read through the program three times before rolling it in a tube around the tissue covered stems of his bouquet.  Two-thirds of the way through the program, he was no longer bothering to feign interest in the music and was growing impatient for Castiel’s part of the recital to start.  He plucked at the petals of one of the red daisies until Sarah snatched the bunch of flowers out of his hands to save them from being demolished.  He overheard her whisper something about _giant three-year-olds_ to Ava.

 

Finally, the singer’s portion of the concert was over.   Dean and Victor leapt to their feet applauding loudly – mostly because it was over, not because they were impressed with the performer’s ability.  The house lights came on and the audience filed out into the lobby for intermission.

 

“Man, I hate intermission.  Why can we just sit straight through and get out 15 minutes earlier?” Victor complained as their group wandered over to a corner. 

 

Dean glanced around seeing familiar faces, mostly other music majors and music faculty mingling together.  He spied Anna and Gabriel, who appeared to be on his best behavior, talking with a very smartly dressed middle-aged woman.  He guessed she was their mother.  Castiel had been very surprised when his mom told him she would be attending his recital.  From what Castiel had told him, the Miltons weren’t very supportive that Castiel had chosen Edison College over Julliard and Eastman.  Ms. Hawkins, Castiel’s cello instructor, approached the trio and shook hands with the other woman.

 

“You gonna go with us to Crowley’s after the concert?” Ava asked, tugging on Dean’s elbow.  Crowley’s, one of the downtown bars, was always full of Edison students on Friday and Saturday nights.

 

“Yeah, but don’t wait around for me.  I’ll come with Cas.”  Dean nodded. 

 

Over the last few months, Dean had managed to drag Castiel away from the practice rooms to hang out.  He invited him whenever the gang decided they wanted to get dinner off campus or check out a band at one of the nearby clubs.  Sometimes he invited him over to just watch movies in his room when Ash went away for the weekend.  Castiel slowly began to initiate ideas for things to do once he realized that Dean would go just about anywhere, see anything, and do anything he wanted.  Dean played it off as wanting the full college experience, but really he just wanted to hang out with Castiel even if it meant going to lectures and concerts he had little interest in attending on his own. 

 

Sarah and Ava shared a quiet, knowing smile.

 

Dean furrowed a brow at the look between the girls.  “What?”

 

Victor rolled his eyes at the girls.  “Nothing, man.  Hey, it’s time to go back in.”

 

They joined the swell of people slowly going returning to the recital hall.  Back in their seats, Dean leaned over to Victor.  “Seriously, what was that look about?”

 

Victor sighed.  “Sarah and Ava think you and Castiel are seriously crushing on each other.”

 

Dean laughed.  “Just because we hang out together?  You and Benny are practically joined at the hip.  The only reason he isn’t here right now is because he had to go home for his parents’ anniversary party this weekend.”

 

Victor just shrugged.  “Yeah, but I don’t make moony eyes at Benny whenever he isn’t looking at me.”

 

Dean furrowed his brow and smirked in disbelief, but his denial was cut short as Castiel walked out onto stage alone.  Dean’s attention turned fully to his friend on stage.  Castiel took a short bow as the audience clapped before he took his seat in the middle of the stage.  His first piece was the _Prelude_ from Bach’s unaccompanied _Cello Suite, No. 3_.  Warm, throaty notes filled the recital hall as Castiel pulled his bow across the strings.  The music ebbed and flowed naturally with no pretention or undue force. 

 

Dean watched the soft touch of Castiel’s left hand dancing up and down the cello’s ebony fingerboard.  His long fingers moved with practiced ease and certainty.  Dean raised his glance slightly and was transfixed by Castiel’s face.  His eyes were closed in gentle concentration.  When the music took on a jaunty, happy tone, his brow lifted and a slight smile tugged at his mouth.   In the darker passages, his brow furrowed slightly giving him a solemn countenance.  His expressions were natural and unconsciously done, unlike the singer whose motions with music seemed scripted and rehearsed.  Castiel was fully immersed in what he was doing, feeling the music with his whole self.

 

When the last chord of the _Allemande_ finished reverberating through the hall and Castiel brought his bow down to his side, the audience broke out into applause.  Castiel seemed almost surprised when he opened his eyes, as though he had completely forgotten there were several dozen people watching him while he played.  He stood from the chair and bowed low before stepping off stage.

 

Dean released a breath that he suddenly felt like he had been holding the entire eight minutes of the piece.  He didn’t have time to fully process the air of serenity that Castiel had projected to the room when the cellist appeared on stage again, this time followed by his accompanist.  They took a moment to check the tuning of the cello with the piano before Castiel leaned forward to open his sheet music.  In that brief moment, he glanced out over the audience and immediately found Dean.  His lips pursed together in a faint smile and the slight tension in his shoulders relaxed.  A shot of pride burst through Dean and he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

 

Dean lost himself in the play between the cello and piano.  Castiel and his accompanist complimented each other’s style very well, blending the separate lines of music together effortlessly. The _Allegro assai_ from Mendelssohn’s _Cello Sonata No. 2 in D major_ was playful and fun, which contrasted wonderfully with Rachmaninoff’s soulful and lyrical _Vocalise_ that followed.   The pieces perfectly showcased Castiel’s technical and musical abilities.  Dean had listened to Castiel practicing often over the last few weeks while he was preparing for his recital.  The many hours of starting and stopping and repeating tricky measures over and over again definitely paid off.

 

The final note of _Vocalise_ died and the audience stood, clapping enthusiastically.  Castiel and the pianist stepped off the stage for a moment before the applause beckoned them back.  A smiling Castiel stepped to the front of the stage to take a huge bouquet of yellow roses from Anna and Gabriel. 

 

Dean shimmied down the row, giving Ava a hasty apology when he stepped on her foot, before running up to the stage with his beleaguered bunch of daisies.  Castiel was just beginning to turn away to head back to the green room, when Dean held up the flowers.  He turned, tilting his head slightly to one side with a faintly curious expression.  Dean just smiled at him and thrust the flowers up a little higher so Castiel could reach them. 

 

Castiel handed the roses from his family to his accompanist before taking Dean’s offering.  He smiled and then gestured to the stage door.  “Meet me in the back?”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Dean replied with a wave as he turned to go find Victor and the girls in the lobby.  When he found them, he reassured them that he and Castiel would meet see them at the bar later.  The crowd in the lobby was thinning out as he headed backstage.  Castiel was packing up his cello in its shiny black hard case when Dean pushed open the door. 

 

“Great job, man!” Dean said as he crossed the room and gently pelted his friend on the shoulder.

 

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel replied with a pleased smile.  He flicked the last clasp on his case closed before motioning over to where his brother and sister stood with the older woman Dean had seen them speaking to during intermission.  The gesture was slightly nervous.  “Let me introduce you to my mother.”

 

They both walked over to the trio before Castiel caught his mother’s attention.  “Mom, this is Dean.  Dean, this is my mom.”

 

With his patented lady-killer smile on his face, Dean stuck out his hand.  “Hey, Mrs. Milton.  It’s nice to meet you.”

 

Amy Milton looked every bit the prim and proper, upper class, former debutant.  She wore a well-tailored, chartreuse skirt suit with a colorful silk scarf tied at her neck.  Her auburn hair was just a touch darker than Anna’s and had been carefully styled by skilled hands – Dean wondered if the woman traveled with her own hair stylist.  The top of her head barely reached the middle of Dean’s chest, but she exuded a smug confidence that immediately showed him she probably wouldn’t be softened by his flattery.  Her cool blue eyes didn’t warm up with the polite smile that pursed her lips as she slipped a delicate hand into Dean’s. 

 

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Dean.  I’d like to say that I’ve heard all about you from Castiel, but I’m afraid that would be untrue.”  Her eyes flickered over to Castiel very briefly as though chastising him.  “Castiel doesn’t call home often.  I’ve had to hear about his goings on second-hand from his sister.”

 

Mrs. Milton turned her attention back to her children, effectively dismissing Dean.  “Our reservation at the River Club is in ten minutes.”

 

“Can Dean come with us?” Castiel asked hopefully, glancing between his brother and sister for their support.  They knew Dean was his closest friend.  Anna looked at their mother, but Gabriel was already giving Dean a rueful look that said he shouldn’t expect an invitation to dinner.

 

The Milton matriarch cast a critical eye at Dean.  He was wearing dark blue jeans and an untucked, gray pinstriped Oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.  She pursed her lips together in what Dean guessed was supposed to be an apologetic smile.  “I’m afraid the club requires a jacket and tie for dinner and there’s no time for him to change.  Some other time perhaps.”

 

Dean just smiled, though it was a bit strained.  Castiel’s shoulders slumped as his mother led his siblings out of the room. 

 

“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” Castiel said after the door closed.

 

“Nah, man.  Family’s important.  You need to go with them.  Here, I’ll take this downstairs for you.”  Dean grabbed the handle of Castiel’s cello case and prodded him towards the door.  With a grin, he said, “If my mom was in town and wanted to take me out to eat, I’d definitely go for it.”

 

“Yes, but your mother is a very nice lady.”  Castiel sighed as he shrugged into his suit jacket.

 

Dean couldn’t help but beam with pride at the compliment.  Ever since Mary learned that Castiel had taken care of her son when he was sick, she had sent extra cookies and pastries in Dean’s bi-weekly care packages that were especially marked for Castiel.  The other boy had been enamored with the easy affection that came from his friend’s mom, almost as though he was starved for a mother’s love.  “Well, at least go give Gabe and Anna moral support and order the most expensive thing on the menu.”

 

Castiel chuckled.  “Will you be at Crowley’s later?”

 

“Yeah, I’m gonna meet the rest of the gang over there.  I think Ava said they were doing Karaoke or trivia tonight.  We’ll see you there?”

 

“Yeah, I’ll see you there,” he replied.  Castiel’s eyes lingered on Dean for a second before he turned and began to walk towards the glass doors leading outside.

 

Dean waved as he watched Castiel climb into the back of the big black town car waiting by the curb.  He hated that he hadn’t been allowed to go with his friend, and not just because he wanted to chow down on some fabulously expensive fare.  He just wanted to keep Castiel company through what was certain to be a frosty family dinner.  Quickly, he trekked downstairs to put the cello in its locker before heading across campus to find his friends at the bar.

 

Crowley’s looked as though someone had transported an English pub stone by stone, hand-hewn plank by hand-hewn plank to Edison.  The atmosphere was crowded, but warm and welcoming.  Students and other patrons were packed around tables and into booths.  Five televisions showing five different college basketball games hung from the ceiling behind the bar.  A small stage set up with Karaoke equipment took up the far end of the room between the kitchen door and the door leading to the bathrooms. 

 

Dean stood awkwardly in the doorway craning his neck to see over heads and bodies.  He spotted Sarah waving madly in his direction from one of the booths.  Weaving his way through the crowd, he managed to make it to the table without causing any accidents, though he did reach out to steady a blonde waitress’s heavy tray of drinks when some drunk guy stood up too suddenly and knocked her off balance.

 

“Hey, Dean!” Ava piped up over the roar of the pub.  “Where’s Cas?”

 

“His mom stole him away for dinner.  Don’t worry.  He’s planning to come over when they’re done.”  Dean slid into the booth next to Sarah, across from Ava and Victor.  They had already ordered drinks – Crowley’s was famous for their soda fountain that could mix up any number of drinks for the underage drinkers – and a big plate of cheese fries.  The waitress that Dean had saved from dumping her drinks all over a table of frat guys stopped by to take his order with a sweet smile.

 

Two hours passed with rounds of drinks and plates of greasy appetizers.  Ava and Sarah got up a few times to sing on stage.  The boys flat out refused to participate, but compensated by offering to keep buying food.  Dean kept his eye on the front door, impatiently waiting to see the familiar mop of dark hair.   The crowd started to thin out as people headed out for Friday night bar hopping.  Dean was just checking his phone for messages when Sarah stood up next to him and started waving towards the door.  She cried out over the chorus of _Eye of the Tiger_ , “Cas!”

 

Castiel was leading his brother and sister towards their booth with a relieved smile on his face.  They were still dressed in their nice clothes from dinner, but Castiel and Gabriel had ditched their suit jackets.  Sarah slid out of the booth, grabbing Castiel by the shoulder and gently shoving him into the booth up against Dean before she sat back down.  Anna squeezed into the booth with Victor and Ava.  Gabriel made a beeline for the bar before heading to the back of the pub to find his friends.  He waggled his brows at Dean as he passed.

 

Dean grinned at Castiel, barely noticing that their sides were smushed together and Sarah seemed to taking up way more room on the end of the bench than someone her size normally would.  “How was dinner?”

 

“Could have been worse.  At least I got dessert.”  Castiel pushed a take-out container in front of Dean as he caught the waitress’s attention.  He asked for a cream soda and six spoons.

 

Dean peeked inside to find two big slices of key lime pie.  The dessert smelled wonderful, obviously freshly made with real limes, not just lime flavoring.    The waitress returned with the drink and utensils.  Dean wrapped an arm protectively around the container as everybody at the table made a grab for the spoons.  “Who says I’m sharing?”

 

Castiel rolled his eyes and grinned, elbowing Dean in the side.  “I brought it for everybody.

 

Five mutinous spoons were raised in Dean’s direction. 

 

“Ok, ok! I’ll share.”

 

After polishing off the pie and the girls finally convincing Dean and Victor to sing AC/DC’s _Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap_ , the gang decided it was time to head back to the dorm.  Gabriel stopped by their table just as everybody was shuffling out of the booth. 

 

“Hey, Cas. Think you can find somewhere to stay to night?”  The elder Milton had the SGA vice-president on one arm and the captain of the girls’ volleyball team on the other.

 

Castiel gave his brother a put-upon sigh, but nodded.  “Just give me time to grab my stuff.”

 

“No prob, lil bro!  C’mon ladies, let’s get another round of purple nurples before we adjourn back to my place.”  The girls giggled as Gabriel escorted them up to the bar.

 

Anna rested a sympathetic hand on Castiel’s shoulder.  “I’ll throw the extra mattress on the floor for you.”

 

“Cas, you can stay with me,” Dean said.  ”Ash went to Charlie’s house for a Guild Wars raid and won’t be back until late tomorrow.  His bed’s free or you can have the futon.” 

 

Dean fell into step next to his friend as the group filtered out into the cool spring night.  He knew that Gabriel often kicked Castiel out of their room and that he always went to stay with his sister.  The first time Dean learned of this strange arrangement between the Milton siblings, he had offered the futon to Cas, but he declined with the excuse that he didn’t want to disturb Ash.

 

Castiel started to shake his head, but before he could reply to the invitation, Anna snapped her fingers. “Oh, shoot.  I forgot Inias and Hester are coming over at 8 in the morning to work on our presentation for Spanish.”

 

He narrowed his eyes at her. “I thought sleeping in on Saturday mornings was sacred to you.”

 

“Yeah, well…,” she hedged suspiciously.  “Sometimes you have to make sacrifices and this was the only time the three of us could meet up.”  Anna decided at that moment that she needed to start rifling through her purse for her keys even though they were still several blocks from the dorm and avoided her brother’s glare completely.

 

Dean piped up, with an enticing offer.  “We can pick up with the second season of _Buffy_.  I stocked up on snacks during the grocery run on Wednesday.  Got ranch Doritos, cheese puffs, Skittles, the usual stuff.  Oh, and I got a box from my mom today.”

 

“Alright, I’ll stay with Dean tonight.”  There was no hesitation after the mention of goodies from Mary Winchester.

 

Dean laughed.  His mom’s baked goods could convince a saint to commit murder.  The group split up in the Hancock lobby to go to their rooms for the night.  Castiel rushed up to the third floor to pack a bag before his brother showed up with his girlfriends for the evening.  Dean scrambled into his pajamas and rushed around his room to kick piles of dirty laundry, books, and papers into the closets and under the lofted beds before Castiel showed up.

 

There was a knock at the door.

 

“It’s open!” He called as he finished stuffing trash in a plastic bag.  Glancing around, he was impressed that it only took five minutes to make the room look presentable.

 

Castiel entered carrying a small duffle bag in one hand and clutching his pillow and comforter to his chest with the other.  He had changed out of his suit into a pair of plaid knit pajama pants and a burgundy Edison College t-shirt. 

 

“Make yourself at home.  I’m gonna take out the trash.  Soda’s in the fridge.”  Dean slipped his feet into his flip flops before heading down the hall to drop his garbage in the big trash can in the laundry room.  By the time he got back, Castiel had dumped his duffle next to the sink and curled up on the futon with his pillow.  He was already two bites into one of the huge chocolate chunk cookies from the blue and white stripped box on the coffee table.

 

“Does your mom ship out to customers?”  Castiel hadn’t even finished the cookie before he leaned forward to take a closer look at the other goodies tucked away in the box.

 

Dean grinned. “You’re more than welcome to share my stash, you know.”

 

“Maybe I want my own box full,” he said as he fished out a blueberry scone, holding it in his free hand while chomping contentedly on his cookie.  “I’d happily pay extra for overnight shipping.” 

 

“You want some milk, cookie monster?”  Dean crossed over to the mini-fridge for a soda.

 

“Yeth, pleath,” he replied through a mouthful of chocolaty goodness, spewing a few crumbs down his shirt.

 

They settled comfortably on the futon together with Mary’s box between them, watching classic Joss Whedon on Dean’s laptop. 

 

*****

 

Dean didn’t remember falling asleep, but he woke up the next morning in a very awkward position.  Castiel was sleeping half-propped up against his pillow in the corner of the futon with his legs twisted out to his side.  Dean was tucked between the back of the futon and Cas’s legs with his face smooshed into the dip of Castiel’s side.  His arm was draped over the dark haired boy’s thighs.  Being wrapped around his friend wasn’t nearly as embarrassing as he thought it might be.  It was actually pretty nice, and he was reluctant to push himself away from Castiel’s warmth since they didn’t have a blanket.  The only embarrassing part of their current situation was the subtle rocking of his hips that nudged his boner against Castiel’s calf. 

 

The realization of what his body was doing snapped him wide awake.   He caught himself just in time to not jerk upright and startle Castiel, who was still fast asleep judging by the very soft snores coming from his slightly opened mouth.  Dean’s eyes lingered too long on his friend’s soft, pink lips before he blinked and forced his concentration on untangling himself from the futon without waking Cas.  He pumped his fist in victory when he finally got to his feet.   Castiel’s hand moved along his hip as though he was searching to find his lost heat source, but he didn’t wake up.

 

Dean quickly realized he wasn’t dealing with normal, half-cocked morning wood tenting his pajamas.   Nope, it was a full-on raging erection that wouldn’t go away if he just ignored it.  All week he had been so wrapped up in studying for mid-terms and finishing a big English paper that he hadn’t had any spare time to take care of business.  Even his showers had been quick in-and-out, five-minute ones.  Dean glanced up at the clock.  It wasn’t 9am yet.  The showers were probably empty since it was still relatively early for a Saturday.  Quietly, he opened his closet door and pulled out his shower stuff.

 

The shower room was blessedly empty.  Dean counted that as his second victory of the morning.  He snagged his favorite shower stall, the one with the extra-large shower, and turned on the water to warm up while he set out his things and undressed.  He stepped into the stall, pulling the curtain closed behind him.  The water was perfectly warm as he stood directly under the showerhead letting the spray cascade down his body.  With eyes closed, he leaned back against the wall opposite the water flow and took his hard cock in hand.  Electricity sparkled under his skin at the first touch.  The only benefit to going so long time without getting off was how intensely good it felt when he finally did touch himself again.

 

Dean didn’t want to rush, but his whole body felt like one wide open, on-fire erogenous zone.  His right hand worked up and down in smooth strokes on his erection while his left hand wandered over his wet body, from twisting his nipples to sliding down to cup his balls and press at his perineum.  Within just a few minutes, he was riding along the edge of orgasm, heat and tension coiling low in his abdomen.  He slowed down just enough to enjoy his usual fantasy of having someone else’s hands doing the touching.  He had a pretty sizeable collection of people to fantasize about, his current favorites being either Scarlett Johansson or Chris Pine, but for now the hands he saw in his mind were faceless. 

 

The door to the shower room opened and a sleep rough voice said, “Morning, Dean.”

 

Instantly, his mind supplied a face to go with the phantom hands touching him – a face framed with tousled dark hair and a pair of dark blue eyes looking up at him as the head of his cock slipped between parted pink lips.  With a sharp gasp, he came, thick strings of opaque spunk spattering against the mint green tiles of the shower.  He pressed free hand against the wall to steady himself as bright sparks burst behind his eyelids.

 

The soft patter of bare feet on the floor paused.  “Are you ok?”

 

It took him a moment to catch his breath enough to reply.  He bit down hard on his lower lip to suppress the groan that wanted to accompany his exhale.  Come bubbled over his fingers as he gave the dark head of his still pulsing cock one last firm squeeze.  “Yeah, yeah.  I’m fine.  Just…uh…dropped the soap on my toe.”

 

Of all the reactions, he didn’t expect to hear the deep rumble of Castiel’s laugh.  “Good thing you’re in a dorm shower, not a prison shower.”

 

The implication caused his softening dick to give a half-hearted throb of interest.  If he didn’t hurry up and finish his shower, he might have to hang around for round two.  Quickly he grabbed his shampoo; at the moment the rest of his body was way too sensitive for a washcloth.  He heard the water start up in the shower across from his. 

 

“Did you sleep ok last night?  I totally didn’t mean for you to sleep on the futon.  You could have slept in Ash’s bed.  It’s still early if you want to go back to sleep.  We can grab lunch whenever you wake up.  I’ve been craving a burger from 5 Guys for the past few days.  Are there any cookies left, or did you eat them all?”  He was babbling and he knew it, but he had to keep his mind off the image of Cas on his knees with his mouth wrapped around Dean’s cock.  

 

“My neck’s a little sore, but it’ll…be ok.”  There was a strange, husky hitch in Castiel’s voice when he answered.  “We’ll talk about…food…when I…I get out, ok?”

 

“Yeah, sure.”  Dean furrowed a brow as he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair.  He grabbed the soap and started lathering up his wash cloth. 

 

“Dean…”

 

“Yeah?” Dean replied.

 

“What?” Castiel asked, confused.

 

“What do you want?”

 

“What do you...mean?”  There was that breathy catch in his voice again.

 

"You said my name."  Dean started scrubbing under his arms and along his sides.

 

“Oh…shit.”  The curse came out as a whisper that wasn’t supposed to be overheard, but Dean heard it anyway.

 

Dean nearly dropped the washcloth as his head whipped up in surprise.  “Dude, are you…?”

 

“Am I…what?”  There was an almost pitiful whine hidden deep in that rough voice.

 

“Uh, nothing.  Nevermind.”  Dean’s mind raced with the idea that his friend was most likely rubbing one out in the shower across the room.  He rinsed the soap from his body as fast as possible and shut off the water, grabbing his towel.  After drying off, he headed back to the room. 

 

It wasn’t like this morning was the first time he’d ever realized that his friend was a good looking guy.  Those brooding good looks were what made Dean take notice of Castiel sitting all alone in the corner of the cafeteria eating a bowl of Cocoa Puffs and studying the score of a Haydn symphony at the beginning of the school year.  It wasn’t like he was going to have some Big Gay Crisis over liking his closest friend at college, either.  Sure, the only person he’d ever dated in his whole life was Lisa Braden, but she knew he drooled over the guys in the _Avengers_ just as hard as she did.  No, none of that worried him.  What worried him was whether or not he was going to pop a boner every time he was near Cas, and if it was going put a damper on their growing friendship.  He liked Castiel, a lot, and didn't want to jeopardize what they had together. 

  

He automatically sat at his computer and brought up his school email account, though he just stared at the screen without really seeing it.  His mind was supplying him with the image of wet, naked Castiel jerking off in the steamy shower, looking right at him with those wide, guileless blue eyes that always seemed to gaze straight into his soul.  He pressed the heel of his palm down against his traitorous cock and quickly realized he was still sitting in his robe, legs wide open and junk hanging out.  Muttering curses under his breath, he jumped up to throw on clean boxer-briefs and pajamas.  As the door opened, he wondered if maybe he should have locked his chubby more firmly away in the confines of a pair of jeans. 

 

Castiel crossed the room, quickly putting his back to Dean as he started to pack away his towel and toiletries in the duffle bag by the sink.  He was wearing the pajamas he had fallen asleep in and his hair was a riotous fluff of towel dried locks.  Dean fisted his hands against the sudden desire to run his fingers through Castiel’s hair.

 

“Good shower?” he managed to croak out, immediately cringing when his voice cracked like a 12-year-old’s.

 

"The water pressure’s much better down here,” he replied, giving no indication that he had any idea what Dean had been up to in the shower.  He shuffled things around in his bag trying to get them all to fit inside.  “You wanna run over to the cafeteria for breakfast?  I don’t think I’ve ever been up early enough to go to breakfast on a Saturday before.”

 

“Uh,” Dean debated for a second before Castiel stood up and turned to face him.  There was such a hopeful look on his friend’s face from just the prospect that Dean would consider investigating Saturday morning cafeteria food with him.  Dean pushed aside his awkwardness and budding crush (ok…maybe it was actually _blooming_ now rather than just _budding_ ).  “Yeah, sure, Cas.  Maybe they’ll have the waffle makers out.”

 

The dark-haired boy beamed happily at him as they shoved feet into shoes and headed out of Dean’s dorm room.


End file.
